A man whose height had just begun to be challenged by his age and his twiggy, fair haired daughter walked the swaying, white tipped grassy meadow outside of Mileth as the sun dipped beyond the horizon.
“What are those, dadaidh?” the girl could be heard from behind, head tilted back as far as her neck would allow without toppling her over backward.
The father looked back at his gawking daughter and then up to see the last of the goddess’s radiance replaced by twinkling lights emerging from the aether. It was the third time she had asked the question since the new moon.
His age blessing him with an abundance of patience, he looked down at his daughter as she surveyed the awakening night sky. “Those are the stars, my dear. They light our way in the darkness so that we can find our way home.”
The answer didn’t satisfy, “But how did they get so high?” her little hand stretched out, grasping to connect with the illuminated specks.
The father kneeled himself shoulder to shoulder with his child and traced her view toward the heavens, gently holding out his hand in the same manner, “They are so high because they are the enlightened. Sages of Hy-Brasyl.”
The answer caused the daughter to bring her view back down from beyond with a dramatic exasperated sigh, a scrunched exaggerated scowl to match, “Those are people?” she emphasized, barely believing the incredulity of it all.
She looked confused; she was always confused about this part. “Not just people, my dear, the wisest of people. The greatest thinkers, artists, and writers. So great was their wisdom that it persists in the sky and guides us when things seem their darkest.”
“Will I ever be a light in the sky?” her thoughtful voice betrayed the naivete of her youthful face.
Reaching out, he took his daughter’s hand and together they started to walk toward the brightest star on the horizon, beaconing just over Mileth, “Yes, my dearest. The stars of Hy-Brasyl set an example, but there is plenty of room in the sky for you.”
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